Better The Devil You Know
by The Smashlee
Summary: Hilary has a problem and finds herself drifting away from what she once knew. Very slight KaixHil, Rating just in case. [Oneshot, eating disorders]


**Warning: **Just some pointless and crap one-shot I came up with while eating peanut butter, ironically enough.

Completely irrelevant to Taking My Place.  
**OOC-ness.  
**Themes of eating disorders.  
And I couldn't be bothered editing _once again_

* * *

I'm not quite sure when and how this all happened. I'm not myself and haven't been for a while now. Although I still laugh, I still cry and get angry, I'm not the same Hilary I once was. If no one had noticed the change in me, I wouldn't blame them in the slightest, I've become very good at hiding things lately.

I have a problem. Some ignorant minority might call it vanity. Imagine that. _Vanity._ But it's nothing like that at all, that's so much further from the truth than anyone would think.

Every lunchtime at school, I'll sit alone. People started ignoring me a long time ago, mainly due to my attitude. I'll sit alone and I'll pick at my food that I've brought and be tempted to eat it. I'll purposely tempt myself to see how far my will goes, most of the time I'm successful in just staring at my food without having any. But there are times when I fail and my weakness backs me into a corner. It's when I succumb do the voices come back.

No one else can hear the voiced. Just me. No one knows what goes on inside my head, and if I can help it, no one ever will.

I have a problem. It consumes my life. Some might call it vanity, _I_ call it living hell. Either way it's all the same, people just don't understand. They see me sitting at my table all alone, not smiling, and not eating. I hear them laugh, I see them point, and I hear them say over and over: "That's just another stupid girl who starves herself."

* * *

It's night and the darkness has settled and made its way into wherever the light cannot touch.

I stand in my room completely alone.

I have a full length mirror attached to my wardrobe door, and I stand before it staring at my reflection wearing nothing but my underwear. If someone were to see me, they'd probably think I was the biggest freak. Each and every second I spend standing here is spent on inspecting and counting each and every flaw that I can see on my body. My nose is too big, my thighs are huge, and my stomach bulges grotesquely. I can name a thousand things that I hate about my body, I've memorized them all. And believe it or not, I go through this routine everyday, feeling my self-loathing grow each and every minute,

Sick and hateful at what I see, I lie my back down on my floor and bring my knees up. I cross my arms over my chest so they're touching the opposite shoulder, and I bring my upper body up to my knees and repeat the process, counting under my breath each time I do it.

In my head I can hear the voice screaming at me that I'm not good enough, that I'm disgusting and that if I can't even do this I'm nothing but a fat failure. It just makes me more all the more determined. I resolve in my mind to reach at least 200 sit ups. At the very _least._ I repeat the sit up process for what seems like ages until I reach somewhere in the 100's and my body starts to ache. Not prepared to give up, I keep going, regardless of the growing pain. I couldn't give up now; I could do better than that. Finally reaching somewhere in the mid 200's I stopped, and lay sprawled on the carpet, panting. Tomorrow it would be 300 as a minimum. I set new goals for myself each day.

I don't _love_ this. I do not _love_ what I'm doing to myself. My body is always exhausted and hurt and I find myself drifting further and further away from the BladeBreakers as I try to avoid situations that involve food. It's gotten to the point where I barely see them anymore. I barely see anyone anymore. But they couldn't possibly understand. They all tell me I'm getting too thin and pale. I don't think so, I know better.

Tired, sore, and out of breath, I pull myself up onto my bed. I push my chocolate hair out of my face and just lay there for god knows how long.

At first this all began when someone in my family made a comment about my weight. I started eating less and exercising more thinking I was on the road to becoming thin, and there wouldn't be any more flaws that people could point out, as much of a perfectionist I am. I didn't know why I let the comment get to me, but the remark in itself isn't the sole reason why my life is why it is right now. It just acted as a trigger for something that was already going on inside my head: A battle for control. Before I knew it work at school was piling up fast, my parents were fighting all the time, and all these heavy expectations to succeed were placed on my shoulders all at once. I had no say in anything, absolutely no control in any situation. But there was one thing I did have control in: what I _ate_. How many calories I consumed, how much exercise I did, when I would and would not allow myself to eat, they _all_ became something I had a say in, something I had power over.

I know that a lot of people think others who are like me are complete and total idiots. They question: "Why can't you just eat?" as if it was _that_ simple. As if shoving food down my throat would make all the problems and voices in my head go away. What ignorance.

I must have been lying on my bed for at least an hour, drifting in and out of the sleep my body needed when the phone beside me rang loudly. I had remembered that everyone was out and no one else was home to answer. I was tempted to ignore it. But what if it was an emergency? What if there had been an accident or something? I couldn't just disregard it.

I reached over, albeit reluctantly, and grabbed the phone on my bedside table.

"Hello?" I greeted groggily.

"Hello is this Hilary?" The voice sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on the name.

"Yes, who is it?"

"It's me, Ray."

"Oh. What's up?" It didn't exactly sound like there was a life or death situation going on. Nice one kitty.

"Don't sound too excited or anything, Hil."

Hilary rolled her eyes and yawned, as much as she was good friends with Ray, she wished he'd cut right to it.

"Yeah yeah, _so_….?"

"You remember it's Kenny's birthday tomorrow don't you?"

How could I forget? Kenny constantly reminds me, Tyson constantly reminds me and there is actually a countdown going on for the famous beyblade nerd within my homegroup.

"Yep. What about it? Haven't you gotten him anything?"

"No, no, I have. We're taking him out to dinner, just the BladeBreakers, and we wanted to see if you would come."

'_Who's we? And dinner! Is he serious? I'm really sorry Kenny...'_

"Oh…I don't know. I've got this really big assignment to do…" I want to go. I honestly want to go and hang out with them. I just can't, why did it have to be out to dinner? In a restaurant for gods' sake, they really knew how to choose places didn't they?

"Hilary, can't you put it off for a few hours? Please? I know you've been really busy lately, but this would mean a lot to him. Please?"

I bit my lip, torn with indecision. Ray hadn't really put up a convincing argument but it was enough to surface the side of me that really wanted to go with them. But I just can't. The prospect of having to face food in front of the BladeBreakers is scary, but it's _not _as if I couldn't handle it. There are always ways of hiding, different lies to tell, and different techniques to use. Like the opaque-cup and the serviette trick, each of which work great at home. I really missed the team. I've barely seen any of them lately, apart from Tyson and Kenny at school, but they were always busy doing their own thing. I want to see them again while they still want me there. I've made up my mind. I'm scared and nervous, but I've made up my mind.

"Where and when?"

* * *

Inside my stomach was an inner gymnast. And it was doing summersaults like there was no tomorrow. I'm extremely nervous, and more than tempted to turn back and go home. But I couldn't just be rude to Kenny like that. I couldn't. Putting my fear aside, I stepped into the restaurant with the BladeBreakers beside me. I couldn't shake the feeling that they were staring at me. Was something wrong? I shouldn't have worn this outfit that's what. I look like a fat ho with pale skin. I shouldn't have come but it's too late. After giving a name for the reservation, we sit down for a table for 6. A waiter comes around and places red serviettes on our laps. Nice. Real nice sir, but nothing would end up on it.

I place an elbow on the table and rest my chin on my hand, not really caring about table manners. I sigh sadly, knowing that this is probably the last time I will allow myself to do this.

This problem of mine is going to take over me completely. If I didn't have this control, I would be left with emptiness and that probably is what frightens me the most. This problem is all I've become, and without it I'd feel like there'd be nothing. I'd just be a lifeless shell. It's either nothingness or having to wake up in hell everyday. It's better the devil you know.

I look around the circular table and see that we had received our menus already. Everyone's looking at their own and discussing with the person next to them what they'd choose except for Kai. Kai Hiwatari. World class beyblader, renowned for his cold attitude, owner of Dranzer the phoenix, and the boy who would never return my affections. I didn't even bother. He's strong and wise, and me? I'm a _creature_. I don't deserve anything. I didn't even deserve to be invited tonight.

But he was staring right at me, his crimson eyes locked onto mine. His expression was unreadable and my paranoia got the better of me, so I turned away and watched the other people in the restaurant eat their food. If you listen very closely, the sound of other people eating is just disgusting.

I watch them stuff calories after calories into their mouths and I can't help but feel a sense of great satisfaction knowing that I can be stronger than that, I _don't_ have to give in.

Even through my pride and achievements concerning my battle with food, one question always remains in my mind. Would I _ever_ be the same Hilary I once was? Happy and carefree, with nothing else than school priorities to bother me. Could I ever return to that, or had I gone too far to turn back?

Tyson must have noticed the menu I appeared to be neglecting, and poke me to attract my attention.

"Aren't you hungry?" He asks. I form a fake smile at his question.

"Starving."


End file.
